


Gentle Torture

by Vita_S_West



Category: Endeavour (TV), Inspector Morse & Related Fandoms
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Foot Massage, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 17:26:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30126279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vita_S_West/pseuds/Vita_S_West
Summary: Shirley has had a rather long, awful day, but it won't stay that way, certainly not with Joan's help.
Relationships: Joan Thursday/Shirley Trewlove
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9





	Gentle Torture

**Author's Note:**

> pls enjoy my very first smut !

When Shirley arrived home, she all but flung herself from the threshold to the shower. She was exhausted and infuriated and entirely finished with men, co-workers, suspects, pedestrians, and those who couldn’t find a legal bloody parking space and then acted like it was her fault. She snapped as much to Joan on her way up. Joan had been sitting on the couch, feet up, enjoying a book, unaware of what particularly had set Shirley off, but was easily able to imagine an approximation.

It didn’t take long to wash her hair and clean off the sweat, dirt and smell of cigarette smoke that clung to her skin. ( _She_ didn’t even smoke.) Walking around all day, giving tickets for traffic and parking violations, telling people where they could and couldn’t bike, all under through the summer heat in a stiff uniform wasn’t very pleasant. The constant stream of back-talk, harassment, belittlement when asking people to follow the rules was enough to drive her up one wall and down the next. Add in the arrogance, harassment and belittlement of colleagues…

Shirley stood there under the spray, feeling her rage bubble up and and letting it fall away. It wasn’t any one incident so much as a steady stream of exhausting conversations, conceited tones, and insinuations that she was out of place, irritating, stupid, or some combination thereof. Receiving this treatment was one thing, but not being able to reach over and smack the lot of them was something else entirely. You would think men who could learn to read, drive, and park—police officers or not—could figure out how to respect women.

With her anger washing down the drain, leaving just a sense of dejection, Shirley turned the water off. She was free for the day and didn’t have to deal with any of them for the rest of the evening. Pulling the shower curtain back she reached for her towel, only to find it missing.

Shirley didn’t have time to be confused.

“Ta-da,” Joan said, holding it aloft for her, dipping into a courtly bow.

With a smile and head-shake, Shirley stepped into the spread of cotton. She whirled around to face Joan immediately, eyes wide. “Did you warm this up?”

She smiled. “You sounded like you had a hard day. And I thought you made a fair point that all men _were_ bastards.”

“It was unnaturally long. I could have smacked the whole lot of them.”

Joan nodded sympathetically. “Sometimes just smacking one is enough.”

“I’d settle for some light vehicular manslaughter.”

“Who’s the lucky candidate?”

“It’s hard to choose. There’s those robbery bastards. The bugger who yelled at me for giving him a ticket on Abingdon Road. Blocked a fire hydrant, he did. There the constable who told me to _tidy_ up…”

“Mm. How’s the murder team?” Joan liked to keep tabs on her father. She'd also complained to Shirley about half of them many times and one of them more often than not. _Joan_ would settle for smacking Morse. All he did was make eyes at her, sulk, flirt poorly, belittle her job and then show up asking for favours. 

“Barely saw them. Maybe for the best. It felt like everyone was insufferable today.” Pulling the towel around herself more tighter, Shirley said, “You’re a blessing.” She pressed a kiss to her lips.

“And that’s only the start.”

“Oh?”

Joan ushered her into the bedroom, lit by candlelight spread out across their dresser, bedside tables and windowsill. The room smelled faintly of lavender.

“What’s all this?”

“A treat. Good thing you take such long showers.”

“Oi.”

Handing her another towel for her hair, Joan pointed to the bed and Shirley settled down. Joan lowered himself to the floor and raised Shirley’s foot into her lap. Shirley raised an eyebrow at her, but Joan merely shrugged. 

“I know it's hard being on your feet all day.”

Joan pulled out some lotion, which smelled like roses and mixed with the soft smell of lavender that seemed to permeate the room. She began to rub it into Shirley’s feet and ankles. Her hands steadily worked their way up her leg. All the while, Joan’s eyes never left Shirley’s. 

When Joan’s fingers reached her knee, Shirley opened her legs, giving Joan’s hands room and permission to keep moving up—and up. A wide smile spread across Joan’s lips as she avoided Shirley’s inner thigh and instead turned to her attention to her other foot, beginning the gentle torture anew.

Shirley’s pouting only made Joan smile wider and slow her motions, as she began to hum softly. That time, just before Joan reached her thigh, she sat back on her haunches. “You want to get rid of that?” She motioned to the towel. “So I can reach the rest of you.” She spoke so innocently Shirley would have laughed had she not been so eager. 

She stood and tossed the towel across the room, careful that its trajectory would not bring it into contact with any of the candles. Joan took in a quick, quiet breath as her eyes danced over her. Shirley reached out, her hand cupping Joan’s face so they could look one another in the eye. 

Shirley gave her soft smile before asking, “You're not going to make me wait _that_ long for this next bit are you?”

Joan pressed a kiss into the palm of Shirley’s hand. “Wouldn’t dream of it, darling.”

They fell onto the bed together, a tangle of limbs and giggles. It was only a matter of moments before Shirley pinned Joan beneath her, their lips locking. Their hips moved against each other, fitting as snugly as puzzle pieces, as they pressed into each other. Joan ran her hands down Shirley's back, one slipping down to cup her bum, giving her a gentle, almost playful squeeze. Shirley pressed their kiss deeper, eliciting what could have been a purr from Joan. 

After a moment, Joan’s hands travelled up to massage Shirley’s breasts. There was a firmness, a possessiveness, to the motion that caused Shirley to sigh into her mouth. Her nipples hardened under the touch, peaking as they brushed against the front of Joan's blouse.

Shirley’s own hands wandered to Joan’s breast, but found the irksome barrier of layers of cloth. She pulled away to struggle the buttons open and yanked the blouse off. There was some fiddling with the bra, causing more giggles and some grumblings of impatience, but that soon came off too and they fell to kissing once more. Shirley trailed kisses away from her lips, to Joan’s jaw, to her neck, to her breasts. She pulled back to bend down to kiss Joan’s stomach, letting out a little giggle against her skin, as Joan arched her hips towards her.

Shirley moved as slowly as possible—it was Joan’s turn to squirm and they both knew it. Joan groaned and then let out a little whine, as Shirley undid her pants and started pulling them down, pausing to kiss her knees. The soft protests only made Shirley smile again as she worked—continuing to take her time.

When Shirley finally had her face between her legs, Joan was sighing as much with relief as with pleasure. Shirley nuzzled closer with her own light sigh, while Joan’s slender fingers tangled in Shirley’s wet hair and tightened their grip as her breathing became laboured.

Savouring her taste, Shirley ran her tongue over Joan’s slit and teased her clit with the tip. She shifted her weight onto one arm to run her other hand over Joan’s thigh, the skin soft as silk beneath her touch. While her mouth lapped at Joan, Shirley’s fingers danced against her inner thigh and up to her entrance. 

Shirley could hear Joan breathe her name as she slid a finger inside. Looking up at Joan, she added a second finger. Joan writhed. She had her head pressed deep into her pillow, panting and moaning. Her body shook ever so slightly, as if she were trying to keep herself in check as Shirley’s tongue and fingers worked. It only made Shirley hotter, seeing her like this. She was sure she was as wet as Joan was.

“Shirl, come here,” Joan moaned.

Shirley obeyed the command, pulling herself forward, as Joan rose onto her elbows and then sat up. Their lips met with a clash of heat as Joan moaned again, tasting herself on Shirley’s lips. Shirley kept her hand between Joan’s legs, massaging her, knowing _exactly_ where and how to touch to make her twitch and gasp against her. Shirley kissed her hard, feeling a desperate sort of love for her in that moment. Her skin was no longer damp from the spray of the shower, but from the sweat and heat of the moment. She glistened in the candlelight.

“I love you, you know that right,” Shirley whispered into her mouth.

“Me too.” The words were choked out as Joan neared her climax.

Shirley kissed her again before returning to between her legs. Joan’s hands were in her hair again, tightening as they had before, as Shirley licked her clit with a new intensity. Joan arched to her touch, effectively trembling as her grip spastically tightened and loosed in Shirley’s hair, her nails finding purchase in Shirley’s scalp. Feeling lost herself, the pain felt like pleasure.

Joan groaned again, letting loose a string of syllables that Shirley thought was probably her name, or an approximation thereof. Sensing how far gone Joan was, Shirley twisted her finger inside her to get her to let go completely, to absolutely toss her clean over the edge.

It worked. Joan’s thighs stiffened and pulled tight, locking into place around her ears. Shirley could hear her pulse racing—or maybe it was her own as she struggled to breathe in the heat Joan's orgasm. Joan tightened around Shirley’s fingers and cried out her name loud enough to make Shirley vaguely wonder if she should worry about the neighbour’s complaints, but she didn't give a damn.

Shirley licked at her wetness as Joan panted. Her body slackened, but her toes twitched in the aftermath. Shirley slid her fingers out of her and pressed more soft kisses to her belly, climbing to her breasts, her neck, her jaw, and then her lips. She pressed another kiss that seemed almost chaste after what she’d been doing with her mouth moments before and Joan smiled.

“Is your day going any better?” she said, her voice faint, coming out between deep breaths, but her eyes dancing beneath lowered lids.

Shirley smiled, giving her another kiss that ended with a light nip. “Oh, yes. Loads.”


End file.
